The Grey Wolf [TWILIGHT/LEGACIES]

19

That night Renesmee couldn't go to sleep.

The thoughts of Hope meeting up with her ex-boyfriend and rekindling her relationship with him were driving her crazy. She swore if that happened, she wouldn't be able to take it.

An older song came through her earbuds. At first, she wanted to change it, but she then realised she was too lazy to move from her place. She needed the comfort of her blanket and if she shifted her position, the cold air would come through the gaps the blanket would leave. She regretted having put her phone on the nightstand instead of holding it in her hand.

She wondered whether Hope was listening to her favourite jazz songs at the moment. She knew Hope enjoyed listening to Jazz before going to bed.

There was it again!

Couldn't she think of anything else?

Hope. Hope. Hope.

The name was echoing in the hybrid's mind, repeating as if a broken record was playing.

When the singer sang about ocean eyes, Renesmee swore that the song had been written about the way she felt towards Hope.

She had absolutely no one to confide her little secret in. Not even a diary - nobody had encouraged her to keep one. And it was pointless when her family could invade her privacy with their special abilities.

So she laid down that night with nothing but her own loneliness. If one saw her, one would think how lucky she was to be sleeping in clean, silky sheets every night. But to Renesmee, none of that mattered. She could have slept on the floor, she didn't mind that. She had never cared about money or expensive things, unlike some members of her family.

The song about the ocean eyes was playing on repeat, driving the hybrid even crazier than she already was. With that, risking to grow cold again, she threw away the blankets from herself and angrily shut her phone down. She didn't want to hear or see anything about love. Not at that moment.

She wanted to numb her feelings. But with what? The books at the library of the bedroom where she slept all seemed far too boring for her to engross herself in.

She began missing the grand piano she had at home in Forks. Whenever she could, she would escape from La Push to go play it, to distract herself from her horrible reality. For a while, that helped.

But now that she was in an unfamiliar place, she knew she couldn't simply walk to the music room and play the piano.

Or could she?

Renesmee tiptoed to the music room on the same floor where she slept, and quietly opened the door. She had seen the room previously only once - when Hope had been showing her around the mansion. Nobody seemed to use the room that much. Hope was not a musician, and neither were her deceased parents.

Renesmee slowly made her way to the ebony-coloured grand piano in the middle of the room and took a seat on the tiny bench. She placed her fingers on top of the keys and without hesitation, began to play a tune her father had composed about her.

She had missed the way her fingers would dance as the melody would drastically change. She had missed making up little scenarios in her mind as she played without making mistakes. The more she played, the easier it was to do it without looking down at the keys all the time.

The hybrid couldn't allow herself to play for very long. She didn't want to risk being caught and be told off for misbehaving. So she carefully stood up from the piano bench and left the room, not forgetting to close after herself.

When she walked into the guest room where she slept, she was met with familiar feelings of loss and confusion. For a bit, while playing the piano, she had distracted herself. But now that she was no longer in the music room, everything felt the same way it had.

At least no one seemed to have caught her. Or maybe they had and couldn't care less? Or they would scold her in the morning? Either way, at least, the hybrid had felt better, even if it had been temporary.

She had lost training and her fingers hurt. But as long as she played the piano regularly, she could get back into the habit. Who knew - maybe her father was right and she could compose the way he did, she simply wanted to suppress this ability of hers? She could give composing music a chance now that her father wasn't hovering over her, constantly reading her mind. Not that he had while she had been in La Push, but now, she was in a new place, in a completely different one. Nothing would ever be the same.

As she laid back in the bed, seeing that it was way past midnight, Renesmee could not fall asleep. And her phone would not help her either as she had proved it to herself earlier.

The only thing left for her to do was to try to fall asleep.

But no matter how hard she tried to, she couldn't allow herself to rest.

At three o'clock sharp, she was sick and tired of tossing around and counting sheep. It was pointless!

Her head was pounding from the stress she felt. And the lack of sleep would make none of it better. Probably even a pill would not help her either.

And then she realised - she was pretty much all by herself, yet surrounded by others; in love with her new friend, who would probably have to face the choice between her and the boy she loved. And she had nobody to confide in. She would have to bottle it in herself, releasing her inner emotions only through music, if she could avoid being caught.

The hybrid burst into tears of shock. What was she going to do now?